Reminiscing
by Burrito Swan
Summary: Emma Swan is in a nostalgic mood. She begins to reminisce of precious moments she's shared with Killian, and begins to think about where her life is headed now that they are finally together. [One-shot; speculation fic; set sometime in Season 6B]


_**Author's Notes:**_ _ **Hello beautiful people! I found this on my computer today, and figured I'd go through it and re-post it instead of the next chapter of my currently on-going fanfiction. It's EXTREMELY fluffy…like, so fluffy you'll die… Anyway, I've kept as much of the original file as I could, just with bits and pieces here and there having been revised by yours truly (basically, ignore the next section of A/N). Without further ado, enjoy this fluffy, almost-completely-lacking-in-angst fanfiction.**_

* * *

 _ **[Just a few words to get out of the way first; this is my first fanfiction. I know it's hardly a plausible excuse, but please keep it in mind as you read this. The story itself takes place sometime during season six, perhaps the second half, and decided to have it as a one-shot of sorts and ignore events of the season six time-line because, at the time of writing this, not too much is known about the overall season arc. Well, with that out of the way, please enjoy this lovely little tale of two star-crossed lovers.]**_

* * *

Emma Swan had been feeling nostalgic all day. She stared at the cinnamon flakes on the top of the cream of her hot chocolate. Henry was sat opposite her. She didn't hear Granny approach their table.

"Your one-handed rapscallion left this behind yesterday," Granny told Emma, handing her Killian's rum flask.

Emma smiled softly. "Thanks, Granny." She took the flask from her and held it close to her heart. Her nostalgic mood caused her to reminisce of one of the first times she had drunk from that flask.

 _"You and David aren't exactly… how to you say it? Mates,"_ she had told him, still in slight disbelief that he had actually helped her father.

 _"Doesn't mean I'd leave your father to perish on this island,"_ he had told her in response.

 _"Thank you."_

 _"Yeah, well, perhaps gratitude is in order now,"_ he had said flirtatiously, tapping his lips with his finger. She had instantly caught on to what he was looking for.

 _"Yeah, that's what the thank you was for."_ She remembered unintentionally letting a smile appear on her lips.

 _"Hm,"_ he had uttered, stepping closer. _"Is that all your father's life is worth to you?"_

 _"Please, you couldn't handle it."_

 _"Perhaps_ you're _the one who couldn't handle it."_

Perhaps it was the sexual tension that had been building all week. Perhaps it was the way his accent caused him to pop the 't' on "it" in an extremely sexy way. Perhaps it was how _good_ Emma had been feeling that day. Perhaps it was all of the above. Whichever the case, before she could stop herself, she grabbed the labels of his leather coat and hauled him towards her, causing their lips to crash together before moving fluidly together, almost as though their lips were meant to meet. His breathlessness afterward at her decision was also a nice bonus.

 _"That was, uh—"_

 _"_ — _a one-time thing."_ Oh, how she had lied. She didn't think she meant for it to be lie. " _Don't follow me. Wait five minutes. Go get some firewood or something."_

 _"As you wish."_

Further reminiscing was interrupted by her father, who came into Granny's, spotted Emma and Henry and walked over to their table.

"How's it going, guys?" he asked, a big grin on his face.

"Things are good," she responded, though she was curious about his grin. "Why?"

"Oh, it's nothing really."

"You don't have a nothing face. You have a something face."

"Well, I was down at the docks and spotted Hook on his ship. We talked for a bit and he asked me to tell you to meet him on his ship at around seven tonight." Emma smiled. She thought to herself for a bit. _Another date?_ A smile appeared on her lips.

"I'll make sure to not be late."

* * *

He really had gone all out. The deck of the Jolly Roger was lit brightly by the dancing flames of scented candles. Emma smiled and looked at Killian, who was standing in the centre of the ship, wearing his skin-tight black leather pants, a blue shirt, and that gorgeous leather jacket of his that made all the ladies (even Emma, though she'd never admit it) swoon. He stared gapingly at Emma in her floral blue dress and black leather jacket that matched his own.

"I'd comment on how stunning you look, Swan," he whispered. "But you'd probably just say something like—"

"—I know."

He couldn't help but smile at the interruption. He took her hand, kissed it, and led her into the Captain's Quarters. Emma's memories of this place came to the forefront of her mind.

 _"I'll try and keep him above deck so you can get out of here,"_ she had told him.

That had only happened a few years ago to her, but technically occurred over thirty years ago. She smiled just thinking about it.

 _"Where may you be going?"_ Killian—the Killian from the past—had said, coming down the stairs. _"I do hope you're not having second thoughts."_

 _"No, I just got tired of waiting,"_ she had responded, smacking his lips against hers. She remembered seeing the jealousy on Killian's face – jealousy of himself. She smiled thinking about it.

However, this place was also home to some devastating memories.

 _"I liked you the way you were,"_ he had said. _"I liked your walls. I liked being the one to break them down."_

The voice in her head was telling her to leave. She had what she wanted – the sword that had touched Rumplestiltskin when he was just a man. But she needed to ask him something.

 _"The person you found inside is still me,"_ Emma had responded. _"I have a question for you for once. Do you love me? If you tell me you don't love me, I will let you go."_

She had prayed that he still loved her. That everything she had done in Camelot after turning him into the Dark One to return him to the man he was, the man she loved, the man who loved her, was not in vein.

 _"I loved you."_ The sound of her heart sinking was almost as loud as the sound of her walls rising once again. _"I guess I'm either steering home or swimming home. Tell me which."_

She knew why he was doing it. She knew he was making her chose. She could leave here with that sword, or she could stay. With him. But she couldn't do that. Not when he was still the Dark One, still _unaware_ that he was the Dark One. She wanted a future with this man and her family, and she would do everything she could to see to it that that came to fruition.

And yet, it still hurt as she felt the tears forming in her eyes. Her walls weren't fast enough.

 _"Ship's yours."_

Killian placed a hot chocolate in front of her. The hot chocolate made her think about earlier in Granny's with the rum flask and about their kiss on Neverland. As he began to walk back to his chair, she grabbed his hook and pulled him towards her. She pulled him down until his lips collided with hers, kissing him almost as passionately as she had done then.

"What was that for?" Killian whispered, leaning on Emma's forehead and looking into her eyes with those piercing ones of his. "Not that I'm complaining."

"I just… I love you."

Emma's words made Killian smile. He was so smug. She loved it. She loved _him_. Everything about him, from the way he refused to ever give up on her, to the way he holds her late at night when she's cold, to the way he would give up anything to ensure her survival and happiness, even his life. The fact that he was handsome was just a bonus. A great bonus, even. She found herself thinking of his gorgeous stubble that she would always catch herself running her hand through at various points during the day, his skin-tight leather pants, and his sea blue eyes that say "I love you" every time he looks at her.

"Well, it's a good thing I love you too then," he told her, walking back to his seat, not letting go of her hand. She didn't even remember him taking her hand. She wanted him to never let go.

They finished their hot chocolate, and stepped out into the cool spring night. Each of the candles had been extinguished by the wind. She shivered.

"God, it's cold," she said, the coldness evident in how her voice shook with the words.

"Aye, that it is. Perhaps this will help, love," Killian said, hanging his leather jacket around her.

They decided to take the scenic route home through the forest. Emma clung tightly to Killian's right arm, her head resting on his shoulder. Each time she would look up at him, her heart would rise, and she wouldn't be able to feel the cold.

Soon enough, they walked through a clearing that made Emma crank her head up.

 _"Were you considering it?"_ he had questioned. _"His proposal?"_

 _"Does it matter?"_ she had responded.

 _"Humour me."_

 _"Yes, okay. I was in love, so of course I was considering it, but, as usual, he wasn't who he said he was, and I got my heart broken. Is that enough humour for you?"_

 _"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm glad to hear that."_

 _"You're glad to hear I had my heart broken?"_

 _"If it can be broken…"_ he had began, stepping towards her, close enough that he could feel his breath on her face. _"That means it still works."_

She could clearly remember the love burning in his eyes. She had wanted to kiss him then and there. She could feel herself being drawn to his lips. But Neal had still been out there, and she had to find him, so she had resisted.

She decided to make it up to him. She looked up at Killian and pointed his face at hers with her right hand. She could still see that same burning love in his eyes. She wondered if he saw the same in hers. She reached up a connected their lips softly.

"Are you alright, Swan?" Killian asked after they pulled away. "You're certainly being very… thorough… tonight."

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm just, uh, making up for lost time." The smile that proceeded to appear on his lips warmed her heart.

They continued their late night trek, eventually passing a cabin that Emma smiled at the sight of.

 _"I was a villain,"_ he had insisted, despondency present in his voice.

 _"But you're not anymore,"_ she had reassured him.

 _"Neither is Regina, but she still lost her happy ending. If we're to believe the rules of the book, then it's only a matter of time before I lose mine."_

 _"Wait. If you're afraid of losing your happy ending that means you've found it. What is it?"_ She had remembered thinking, _Could it be me?_

" _Don't you know, Emma?"_ In those four words, her suspicions were confirmed. _"It's you."_ She remembered being close to crying, but instead resisted, not wanting to appear weak to him. _Oh, God,_ she had thought. _I'm in love with this man._ She forbade herself from admitting it there and then, afraid she would lose him, and instead planted a kiss on his lips, a stray tear escaping and running down her face.

They walked through the quiet streets of Storybrooke, with Emma still clinging tightly to Killian's arm. She was cold again, and he agreed to grab some her some tea-to-go at Granny's to warm her up before they head home for the night. Emma waited outside as her lover went into the building to get her a drink. Emma stared at one of the tables, remembering its significance.

 _"You outran a curse?"_ she had asked.

 _"I'm a hell of a captain,"_ he had responded, earning him a light laugh from her.

 _"And, once I was outside the curse's purview, I knew that the walls were down – transport between the worlds was possible again. All I needed was a magic bean."_

 _"Those are not easy to come by."_

 _"They are if you have something of value to… trade."_

 _"And what was that?"_

 _"Why, the Jolly Roger, of course…"_ She had been stunned.

 _"You traded your ship for me?"_

 _"Aye."_

Emma remembered not being sure how to react to that news. It was one of the first examples he'd shown her of his ability to put her above anything else, even that ship that he was unbelievably fond of. It had been his home, and he had traded it for her. For the chance to see her again. Even though he knew that she wouldn't remember him, he just wanted to see her.

Emma turned to look at the road, remembering the bumpy road to getting their relationship off the ground.

 _"Of course I trust you,"_ she had said.

She had been frustrated that he had kept pushing her to let her walls go. It would have been alright if she had had the strength to tell him get lost outright, but she didn't. She deeply cared for this man.

 _"Then why do you keep pulling away from me?"_

 _"Because everyone I've ever been with is dead!"_ she had exclaimed in fear. It had felt like a weight off her shoulders at the time. _"Neal, Graham, even Walsh. I lost everyone. I – I can't lose you too."_

It was the one of the very first times that she had opened up to him, the first example of his ability to destroy her walls. She knew she cared deeply for this man, perhaps even as long ago as when he found her in New York, but she always had that fear. That fear that he'd leave or die and leave her all alone again.

The relief that appeared on his face at those words is an image that Emma would always treasure. _"Well, love, you don't have to worry about me. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's surviving."_

She would argue with him now and again that he did die about three times, but he would simply say "well I'm still here, aren't I?" and kiss her, causing her to completely forget about the argument.

Killian came over about five minutes later with two teas, ready to go.

"I think I've got some spare change for Granny in my jacket pocket there, Swan," he told her as he placed the drinks on the table.

Emma reached into her pocket and pulled out a few coins. She picked up what she thought was a quarter and held it up to him before realising what it was: a ring.

It was beautiful. Its silver surface shone in the moonlight, and Emma could make out a design engraved in diamonds on the front of it. Was it a snake of some sort? Emma smiled lightly. It was a hook. She looked up to find Killian on one knee in front of her. She couldn't help but notice Granny, Ruby, and Dorothy in the windows, smiling out at them. She couldn't feel the cold anymore. Her heart was racing. She knew what was coming. She imagined how this would play out a million times in her head, but it was _actually happening_. The man she loved so truly and so intensely was proposing to her. Oh, and how smoothly he had done it too.

"Emma Swan, would you do this dashing captain the complete honour of allowing him to spend the rest of his life with you?"

She could feel it. She was going to cry. She was going to start crying and he would start crying and they'd both just be balling into each other's arms for the whole night. But she didn't care. The man she loves more than she could ever say, the man who had died for her, the man who she had literally gone to hell for, was asking to be her husband. Maybe some time ago, she would have felt inclined to stop herself from seeming so vulnerable. But that didn't matter. Killian had already seen her at her worst. She could see tears forming in Killian's eyes also. She considered the possibility that a kiss would suffice, but she knew her Killian, and he wanted to hear her say it. And so, she allowed the tears to come flowing out of her eyes, and let the word slip out of her mouth.

"Yes."


End file.
